


Scattering like light

by theseatheseatheopensea



Category: Sapphire and Steel
Genre: 19th Century, Altered Mental States, Alternate History, Cursed objects, Elemental Weirdness, Gen, Ghost Ships, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Shipwrecks, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, pinch hit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24189169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseatheseatheopensea/pseuds/theseatheseatheopensea
Summary: There will be other shipwrecks. And they will all hurt.Sapphire knows what time can do.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12
Collections: Hurt Comfort Exchange 2020





	Scattering like light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisbluespirit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbluespirit/gifts).



A seagull flies away, out to sea, but there is no one in the ship when Sapphire arrives. Everything is very quiet, except for the little moments when her steps break the silence. She turns to the left and finds Steel waiting for her, standing by a closed door. They have been sent here, to search for the place where time has broken through. Again.

She stops, for a moment, to concentrate, to get a sense of time. She follows a thread of hours and minutes and seconds, to find their current place. _1873\. No—1872. December. Autumn. Sometime in the early morning._ She looks around. There are old emotions still clinging on to the ship, hiding between the wood and the salt in the air. She breathes in the excitement, the exhaustion, the bitterness... the remaining memories of all these lives, given to the sea, tangled up in the fabric of time.

Sapphire closes her eyes, slowly, and the images fade. She opens them again, and looks inside the room with her mind. "It's a large cabin. It belonged to the ship's captain. Shall we go in?" She opens the door and steps in, with Steel right at her side.

"Oh, hello!" Silver is perched on a small stepladder, looking down at the room. "I thought I'd have a head start while I waited for you two to get here."

Steel is already searching the room, and he doesn't even look at him, but Sapphire's eyes shine. "Silver. Have you found anything?"

"Perhaps I have! What about this?" Silver materialises next to Steel, and holds up a magnifying glass he has lifted from a messy pile of old papers and maps.

Steel frowns, in his usual way. "No."

"Oh. And this?" He turns a compass around in his hand.

"No. It's not old enough."

"Too bad. I rather liked it." Silver tosses the compass up in the air, and catches it again. A cloud of glitter dust falls around him, and he beams at Sapphire.

Sapphire smiles. She walks over to an untidy bookcase and runs her fingers down the shelves. She stops halfway, as an old logbook with brittle covers almost coming apart catches her eye. "Look," she says, "this could be what we are looking for." She places her hand on top of it, to get a better sense of time. "It's from 1872. The year is the current one, but it doesn't feel right. I sense a time break around it—and I'm getting other readings from all the objects here." She looks at Silver. "The magnifying glass is from 1797. The compass is from 1947. None of these things belong here. It is very strange."

Steel narrows his eyes. "Is it? It's a room full of triggers. We've seen this before. Many times."

"Yes. Many times." She nods, and carries on with the analysis, her hands and her mind exploring every corner of the room. "The ship itself is not very old, though. About ten—no, eleven years old. But there is no one on board. I noticed it when I arrived. And I think... I think there is another ship approaching soon." She closes her eyes. "Yes. I'm sure now. A slightly bigger one. We need to be quick."

It is very strange indeed. She feels that, somehow, they have been here before. Which wouldn't be particularly unusual, given what they do. But there is something quite odd about this ship. It is too strange, too still, too unnaturally quiet. Everything here has a sharp edge, and it doesn't seem to be entirely real. She can't explain it yet, but there seems to be something wrong with its timeline _—_ with its past. It feels as if it has been frozen in time, caught between moments, in a kaleidoscope of light.

And it doesn't feel right, but still she picks up the book and opens it, and turns the pages slowly, one by one. They feel rough in her hands, but they greet her like an old friend. And she listens. They are singing. They are calling her. And she understands. They want to be touched _—_ to be seen.

Suddenly, her fingers are on fire. The words flow through her hands, and she is standing, out there, on the shore, by the sea. She feels the wind is in her face and in her arms and in her blue dress. And the minutes fall around her, like drops of water. Like a beginning. Like an end.

She hears Steel and Silver, faintly asking her to wait. To stop. But she doesn't. She takes a step forward. The water is lapping at her feet, calling her. The water is rising. She hears a little echo, a voice down the corridor, and she walks straight ahead, through the darkness. She is looking out at the world, looking through a blurred glass, but she tries to catch a glimpse _—_

 _—_ and she sees the sky, rising to meet her.

And she falls.

There is fire in her hands and in the sky. The sun sets, fading into a million lights. She holds out her hands, to brace the fall, but she doesn't feel a thing. She is floating, underwater. The water is swaying gently in the December breeze. Everything is blue and crystal clear. For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of the sea. Nothing but time, unknown, reflecting in the waves.

The water is slightly cold, but she can't feel it. And then, suddenly, she can. And she doesn't _have_ to breathe, she never does. But now, she can't. She is drowning. She is nowhere. She is gone.

And this is wrong. This is not supposed to happen _—_ not yet.

She closes her eyes, for a moment. There is a complete darkness inside her mind. She didn't think it was possible, but she has lost her sense of time. She tries to hold it back, but she has lost it _—_ she has lost herself.

She has lost herself, in the water.

_Sapphire. Sapphire._

She feels a voice in her mind. It's Steel. And it's Silver, and it's both of them, together. And she wants to warn them _—_ to tell them. But she can't. She wants to say _I'm here._ But she stays silent. The sea is within her mind, and time is dragging her down to the depths, and she can't speak.

She is alone.

Her fingers curl around the logbook, feeling the old echoes, the unspoken words. The wet pages still burn her fingers. The waves, going backwards and forwards, are searching through all the things. Breaking through _—_ going through time. The sea takes what it wants _—_ what belongs to it. And time does the same.

She hears an old, distant song, and it is not unpleasant. It is very peaceful, here in the water. For a moment, it doesn't feel wrong.

And what if she stayed?

She hears another voice. _Do you know who I am? I am alone. You've abandoned me. And I'm such a long way from home._

Slowly, she remembers. The voice is still here, still shipwrecked, still lost, after all these years, and something within it cries, like a child. It's still here, in the deep water, in the dark depths, among lost memories. The voice in the sea is sad and angry. It's trapped, and it wants to get out.

And it's wrong.

And it hurts.

 _You won't leave me again, won't you?_ _Don't go._ _I'm tired of being here. I'm tired of being alone._

Sapphire tries to cover her ears, but she can't. Something wants to keep her here. Something wants to _tell_ her. And it hurts _—_ it hurts this bright, blue place within her, this thing that she is made of. It tears away at her, until she breaks and shatters into splinters, into sharp pieces that scatter in the dark.

But she has to listen. She has to fix this. She has to bear it.

If she could only breathe...

_Sapphire._

She hears them again, and their faint glow calls out to her. She can't see—but she can feel them. She reaches out, with her mind. _It's here. With me. It's pulling me under. It's too strong._

She reaches out. She is trying. She holds out her hand, but she is too far away. She wants to ask _where are you?_ —but she doesn't. There is nothing human about them, but for a moment there is a touch of pleading within her mind, and she can't bear it. It hurts too much. She smiles, and at the same time, her eyes fill with tears. If she could open her eyes, she'd apologise. She'd say—

But she can't. Not yet.

She turns to the presence within the sea. It calls to her, it says _stay with me. Take my hand._

 _No. I can't._ It hurts, but her eyes glow bright. _I don't want to._

 _But you promised—you said you'd be waiting. Come with me now,_ the voice says. _Come with me. Stay close to me._

She hears the song again, and it pulls her down, down towards the dark. And it hurts, to be here, deep down, so far away. It hurts.

_It won't always hurt. If you let go, it will stop. I want to do it. I want to sail away... but I'm afraid._

Yes, she understands. Perhaps there is no one here anymore. There are just words, old ones, that need to be heard _—_ to be set free.

 _It's alright,_ she says, kindly. _It's alright to let go. It's quite safe. Look at me._ She holds out her hand, and the logbook slips out. It fades, page by page, and floats away in the sea. She pushes it far, far away, and it sinks down, deep into the darkness, where no one can see it. Where no one can find it. No one but _them_.

And the words let go. And the words run free. They dance in the water, among the waves, fading into the colours of the sea, in shades of white and green and deep, bright blue. They sleep with these ancient stories, these ancient ghosts, frozen in time, in the sea.

And she doesn't sleep, but it still feels like dreaming. She is broken, but she is still here, in the sea. She is a ripple. She is a mirror. She is an echo, in the water. She becomes a part of the sea. And everything is immense. And everything is infinite. And everything is small, like a moment. And she sees hours, days and months _—_ she sees images of her future _,_ or her past. But it doesn't matter. It won't happen just yet.

No, it's not time. Not yet. But she knows what time can do. And maybe it's her turn now. There will be other shipwrecks. And they will all hurt.

And maybe it's time.

She floats, for a moment, for a thousand years, her eyes still closed. Perhaps the sea doesn't want to hurt her. It doesn't know, it doesn't understand. But still, the water hurts her _—_ the water can't take the pain away. She could stay here, but it wouldn't stop hurting. She would still be alone, in the silence. And she could stay here, but what about _them_?

There is a noise within her mind, and she wants to make it louder. She wants to scream _—_ a light in the dark, in blue, out of her mouth. She wants to be heard. It's very cold, here in the water, and it's not supposed to. But the ship is somewhere out there. She knows it is. She just has to find it. She has to find her way back _—_ back to the shore, back to them.

And then she hears the song again.

But then _—_ then, she hears her name. _Again._

_Sapphire. Follow the lights. Follow us._

She hears them, faintly. She sees them, shining a bit brighter, near the surface. She sees the lights, mirrored in the water. And she wants to go. She wants to go with them.

She looks back, for a moment. The voice says _I'm sorry_. And she says _goodbye_. She leaves the old song behind, in the bottom of the sea, like a harmless memory now, forever asleep in the depths. She follows the pattern of lights, now growing brighter and brighter. She follows the sound of their voices, and the sharp, familiar echoes. She reaches out, past the darkness, past the waves. And the sea water makes the lights shine, brighter, louder, so that she can find them. So that she can be sure.

She reaches across time, back to them. And she is here. And she is back. And she is free.

And this is her future. Right here. She doesn't have to look. She knows.

The sea is blue and full of lights. The sun is bright above her head, like a thousand mirrors, and the world spins around her. She takes a deep breath. She doesn't have to, but she can, and she does. And they are in the water with her, but the waves are soft, and the shore is firm and safe underneath her. Her hands shake, they move, almost by themselves, until she finds them, among the water, among the sand, among the infinite bright lights.

She is cold. But she is safe _—_ she is _herself_. And she opens her eyes. And she definitely doesn't have to, but she clings to them, and they let her. Steel's hands ground her, they keep her here, and they remind her. And perhaps Silver's eyes are a bit brighter now. Bright lights made of mirrored glass fall from his hands, like drops, and he sighs, in a way that would suggest relief, if she believed in such small, such human notions.

Right now, she does. And she doesn't care to analyse it. Perhaps, when she feels stronger, she will. For the moment, she leans on Silver's shoulder, and the explanation of the assignment, the almost dull normality of time running away from them, it all soothes her. It slowly puts her back together again.

"You were right. It was the book. It didn't belong there. And something within it wanted to pull you in, back in time with it," says Silver. "Or forward. We are not sure." He shrugs. There are things about the way time moves that will never make sense, and he doesn't have to explain. "And you were right about something else. We had been here before."

He doesn't say _and we will be here again_. But she knows.

"I know. I remember. There was a voice—a song. There was so much loneliness, so much pain. But it didn't mean any harm. I think it was just frightened," she says, and she shivers. "But it's gone now. The song is just a song. And I made sure that the logbook stayed deep under the water."

"Good. No one can find it again. Not for years," says Steel.

"Well then, we will just have to hide the ship again, won't we? Let's say... seventy-five years or so? Like the last time? Just to be sure!" Steel nods, and Silver smiles at him. "And we might as well leave a replicate ship, just for appearances' sake. People always need an explanation, don't they?"

Sapphire looks out to the sea. _Yes. It's very important. Let's make sure they remember._

"Oh, they will. They will. She's a very fine ship. Now, this will only be a moment." He takes some sand and holds it between his hands. Sapphire puts her arms around herself as she watches him work. Steel stands next to her, not touching her, but not moving away either. His hand is just close enough for her to hold, if she wanted to. And that's all that matters. Together, they look out at the horizon, and they watch as the sea shines and rises, for a moment. And, in a moment, the ship is gone, the replicate ship is in place, and a ship with a red flag comes near _—_ right on time.

Silver walks back towards them, and dusts off his hands. "There, I've sorted her. She's a fine ship indeed. Now, shall we go inland? There might be a volcano or two that needs our attention. Or a giant octopus, or a squid."

Sapphire takes his arm, and then Steel's. She is still cold, and her steps are still a bit shaky, but the sun is shining, and the ground is steady under her feet. And she is safe. She is here. There are loose pieces still sharp within her, and they still hurt. But, in time, they will go back to their proper place, back to the light. Or maybe they will change. They will become new, impossible things. She isn't sure. If she knew, it would be too simple _—_ too human. It wouldn't be enough.

But maybe this too is what time can do.

Silver smiles at her, almost knowingly. He gestures to the small mirrored lights, still on the shore. _I hope that they were to your liking_ , he says, quietly, in her mind. _We would have hated to lose you._ She nods, wordlessly. She doesn't have to say a thing.

As they walk away from the shore, Silver holds out a compass to her. It shines in his hand, like a little mirror. "Here. To help you find your way."

Steel frowns at him again. "Did you take that from the ship? You know you're not supposed to _—_ "

Silver holds up his hands, in mock annoyance. "Of course I didn't! I replicated it! I couldn't help it, it was too pretty... and it's very good practise, you know!" He laughs, and Sapphire's eyes shine with amusement. She carefully puts the compass in her pocket. She knows her way already, it's too bright for her to lose it. And she knows that she is not alone. She feels it, in that place within her that could hold a heart. But it doesn't hurt to have a reminder, always close by _—_ always close enough.

The three of them walk away. They leave the ship hiding, in the future, or in the past _—_ it's best not to know. But it doesn't matter. The next time, _when_ it's time, they will be here. There will be other shipwrecks. And they will be waiting. As it should always be.

And maybe, one day, time will hurt a little bit less.

She looks back, for a moment. Behind them, the sea grows quiet, and it looks up at the stars. And all the pieces slowly move back into place, held together by bright threads. She feels them shining, with that familiar, otherworldly glow _—_ blinding lights in the sky, almost impossible, and slightly brighter than before. She finds herself again, among the sea and the lights, changed, but always the same. And this is what she can do. And this is what she is made of.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from [Small blue thing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wDN_BJagdw), by Suzanne Vega, which I feel is a very Sapphire-ish song! <3


End file.
